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Phacoemulsification: A type of cataract surgery in which the lens with the cataract is broken up by ultrasound, irrigated, and suctioned out.
I want to carve the gloss
from behind my eyes,
and present it to you
in a smoke filled jazz club,
whilst drinking dusky whiskey,
you would smea...

There were never any clean breaks.
We exploded into ourselves, with fire and brimstone, the shapes we chose serving only to demonstrate our momentum. On summer nights we took to filling deserted parks in the hope of recreating the vintage photographs we'd seen in magazines, always grainy and cl...

Back straight, straight, we can
be beautiful together. What are
the sociological ramifications
of teenagers who drink amnesia
in deserted parks? I chewed sidewalk
for you. I tell people my acne
is sunspots.
I stand with crooked vertebrae
and think (stars are track marks,
freckles on the...

Melodies tumbled from lips,
Fingers splayed in jerking directions,
Flats fell and sharps stung,
Waves crescendoed and broke across skulls,
The first blow struck,
Frantic bass of grunt and impact,
A volley of windpipe and elbow,
When one of the fighters broke,
Collapsing into entropy...

for kisses backlit by convenience store neon
that just made us more beautiful,
for hat brims which hid us from even ourselves,
shadowpuppets who blurred together
under streetlights to dilate and shrivel,
where breaking was for leather-bound notebooks,
not tonight or here, we were havingfun,...

Cringe like gridlock and ropeburn.
You will never smile like he does.
Captive tendons spasm into trenches,
You have empty eyes and an itchy heart,
There is grit in your grimace,
You are lacking the collapsible stoicism
Of one who earnestly does not care.
But please -
Give us one,
...

Hands dusted of peach pit,
Gravel, and feathered things
Which perch in souls,
Tiptoes clutching ledges,
Rawboned, everything that is us
Groped for the courage to leap.
Pulses jagged,
Vertigo in every direction,
A fraying tidbit of moment,
All we ever wanted to do was fall.
You ...

the dusty ruts were beaten into the ground,
rat-a-tat tatted by similarly ridged fingers
politely decorated with loops of white string.
the loops had always been there,
a reminder,
not fraying or loose, simply there.
white circlets draped over leathery hands
which tore the dirt out of th...

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